


first of december

by fyborg23



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyborg23/pseuds/fyborg23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were no other words in the English language more beautiful than "December 1st". </p><p>Ok, that wasn't true, but *right now* it was. Gally just had to shave off that dead rodent he called facial hair, and he'd be the team twink again.</p><p>Not that PK had any stake in that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	first of december

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [post](http://prustytute.tumblr.com/post/67108228730) because jayyyus someone needs to do something about *that*.

December 1st.

There were no other words in the English language more beautiful than "December 1st".

Ok, that wasn't true, but _right now_ it was. Gally just had to shave off that dead rodent he called facial hair, and he'd be the team twink again.

Not that PK had any stake in that.

Nope.

Some guys just couldn't compete with PK's facial spectacularness. _Maybe_  Pricey-- when he wasn't wearing that dead worm.

In fairness, almost all of the NHL had been wearing some sort of dead animal on their faces for the last 30 days.

PK looked in the mirror, and gave his mustache one last stroke before he lathered up. He wouldn't miss it. Crumbs kept getting caught in it.

"Hey, PK!" Gally popped up like a jack-in-a-box from whatever hell dimension he came from. (Vancouver was pretty close to being one.)

PK gave Gally the _nod_ , and turned back to putting shaving gel on his face. Gally hip-checked PK halfway out of the mirror view, and gave his reflection a smug pout. "Should I keep this 'stache?"

PK almost died choking on the shaving gel. What a way to go. PK locked eyes with Gally's reflection, "If you want to die a virgin, sure."

Gally's face turned brick red, "I've been around the block."

PK snorted. "Once." He picked up his clipper, sharpened with unicorn horns and shit like that, whatever, it cost like 45 bucks and felt smoother than his ass. He started at the same side he always did -- the left-- and shaved slowly, making sure not to leave anything behind.

"Clippers?" Gally asked PK's reflection.

PK did not snort. _White boys_. "Curly hair plus razors equals bumps. I don't need bumps."

Gally stared at PK-- indirectly, through mirror magic-- but PK could hear Gally practically mouth-breathing next to him. It was a shame about that large piece of dirt on Gally's face. Detracted from his looks-- although it made his stupid lips even poutier. Gally could pout for all of Canada.

PK could still feel those eyes on him when he rinsed off his face. He turned off the clipper and turned to Gally.

"Look, man, if you can't stand to shave it off, I can do it for you."

Gally blinked those stupid eyes like he didn't know what he was doing with them, the fucking liar, "Oh, if you want to?"

PK snorted, "Trust me, Gally, I'd be doing everyone a favor."

Gally muttered, "Let me get my shaving kit," and darted out of the room. PK gave his reflection a stern look, *do not get your dick involved*.

Gally was back before PK could actually bully himself into not doing anything stupid.

"How do you want to do this?" Gally asked. PK toed over a stepstool and motioned for Gally to sit down. Gally, for once, did exactly what PK wanted him to do.

PK peered into the kit, seeing only some generic gel and quite possibly the cheapest razor Bic ever put into production. "You're such a cheap bastard, Gally."

Gally shrugged, "Comes with the Gallagher name."

PK rolled his eyes, and ran a washcloth under warm water. He could deal with the tools Gally had, but man, did Gally have to cheap out on the important things in life? For his sake, PK hoped, Gally didn't cheap out on protection.

"Close your eyes, Gally," PK muttered, laying the washcloth over Gally's face. Let that soak there for a couple of minutes-- it was just a dirt-stache, but you just didn't take chances with faces.

PK lathered his palms with Gally's cheap-ass gel and told Gally, "Take it off." Gally, the shit, didn't just take the washcloth off. He flung it onto the sink's ledge. For a hockey player who liked greasy goals, his aim wasn't bad.

PK inhaled deeply, and put his soapy hands on Gally's face, rubbing the lather into circles.

"You don't--ugh-- have to shave all of my face," Gally said through the foam.

"Trust me, for that dead gerbil? I do. Consider it a public service."

Gally snorted. PK would have felt more indignant about Gally's indifference to civic-mindedness, but he was kinda focused on making sure the razor wasn't clogged and the sink was filled with steaming-hot water. At least Gally wasn't lazy about keeping his things clean. PK rinsed his hands and the razor off, and turned towards Gally's upturned face. In the harsh fluorescent light Gally looked like a blotchy angel. PK held Gally's chin firmly, saying, "Don't move."

PK took the razor, mowing down against the side of Gally's face in short strips. PK made quick work of Gally's cheeks-- not that Gally had anything to write home about on either of them-- and he swished the blade into the water. Gally wiggled his upper lip, dislodging some foam from that mustache. PK raised an eyebrow, "You done working that worm?"

Gally put up a pretty impressive pout underneath what must be an inch of foam. PK didn't try to restrain his smirk. "Pull your lips in, Gally."

Gally did, making a face at the taste of the foam, but otherwise remained still. PK laid the blade against Gally's upper lip, slowly shaving off bit by bit the hair on it.

For something that inflicted a shit-ton of pain on eyeballs, it went pretty easily.

PK rinsed the razor, and drained the sink, while Gally looked at himself in the mirror like he didn't know what to think. PK raised an eyebrow, smirking at the traces of white foam on Gally's face, and poured water over the washcloth. PK wrung excess water from the washcloth, shook it out, and attacked Gally's face with it--

Gally shrieked.

PK dodged Gally's arms quickly enough to put him in a loose headlock, and scrubbed at the last of the foam. Gally turned a cute shade of pink--

"Aw, look at you, Gally," PK said, patting his cheek with his free hand, "Think you just went up to a five."

Gally sputtered, and muttered, "Fuck you," a brave move for a guy still trying to wriggle out of PK's arm.

PK cackled, "You wish," and let Gally go-- just as Pricey walked in, a judgmental look placed on his face like a goalie mask. Gally's face was _priceless_ \-- just as priceless as seeing Gally run out of the room hunched over, pulling his t-shirt down onto his shorts.

Pricey raised an eyebrow, taking in the soapy sink and PK's shirt which--fuck-- was _soaked_. Pricey smiled just wide enough to show his teeth, and made a show of looking PK up and down. "Shouldn't tease the babies."

PK shrugged, working past the small rush of heat on his face, "I was just doing a public service."

Pricey did something with his face-- like a *leer*, but no. He turned to a mirror, stroking his porn-stache, and said, "How civic-minded of you. But shouldn't you finish what you started?"

PK smiled, wiggling his fingers in Pricey's face, "You sure? You know you miss these silky mitts."

Pricey smirked, but didn't say anything. PK raised his hands in surrender-- Pricey wasn't in the mood to play, and you just didn't push Pricey too far. Pricey took out his own razor, and looked at PK's reflection in the mirror, "Go, play, eh?"

PK mock-saluted him, and went out to find Gally-- if he didn't vanish back to his little hell-dimension.

PK peeled off his shirt, scratching at his chest, and wadded the shirt up in his hand. Hopefully his spare shirt wasn't too filthy to wear. He rounded the divider, but froze at Gally's voice, chirping Chuckie at full speed.

"Like you could even see what you grew, Chuckie."

Chuckie's retort was along the lines of "and you had so much facial hair? Oh, such a jungle."

PK snorted, heading for his locker, "It was. You know those single-blade razors? Yeah, that's what Gally here has."

Chuckie gave Gally his standard ' _you call yourself an adult_ ' look, "You don't say. Did the rat squeal?"

PK smirked, "Dead rats don't make noises-- unless you're calling Gally here a rat, which I don't think is the done thing."

Gally stuck out his lower lip and chin as he sat there, red suffusing his skin from temple to neck.

Chuckie clucked, "Nope," giving the p a special punch. He shoved his feet into his sneakers, and zipped up his coat. "As much as I'd like to talk about rats, my mom said she'd kill me if I didn't come back for dinner."

PK nodded. He had only met Mrs. Galchenyuk a few times, but the woman had the _aura_ down.

That was _saying_  something; PK's mom took no shit either.

"And no, Brendan, _you_  cannot come, you keep hitting on my sister, you gross fatass," Alex said, rapid-fire.

"Aww, but!" Gally folded his arms, tried to look pitiful--

Chuckie just shoved his palm into Gally's face, "No," -- made eye contact with PK, "Don't let him get into _too_  much trouble."

PK slung an arm across Gally's shoulders, "You know me."

Chuckie snorted in farewell, and left.

PK gave Gally one last pat and turned to his locker, looking for that damn shirt. He could feel Gally's eyes on him like lasers--

PK popped his head out of the stall, just in time for Gally to try to look busy _folding_  his socks. PK raised his eyebrow-- man, was it getting a workout today-- and said to Gally, "Want to have a drink with me?"

Gally blinked, "We have a game tomorrow."

"That's why I said _a_  drink. Gotta celebrate you getting back to your normal self."

Gally grinned, "Sure, why not." He turned back to his clothes, his face back to his usual smile.

*

"Not bad," Gally said as he threw himself on PK's couch.

PK kicked at Gally's feet, "Get your hobbit feet off."

Gally leaned his head back on the couch, looking like a pale smudge against the dark leather.

"Gin and tonic ok with you?" PK called from the kitchen.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Gally threw an arm over his face, "We're hockey players."

"Exactly," PK said, stirring in the tonic, "How do you think I keep looking good? It's medicinal, anyways."

"I was thinking a beer," Gally moaned.

"It has limes, you like limes." PK put in an extra slice in Gally's drink. Not that the kid would appreciate it at this rate.

Gally straightened up as PK crossed into the sitting room, his hand out for the cocktail. PK held back the two glasses, "Thought you didn't want one."

Gally looked up, gave PK a smile that was facial-hair-free, "I was told to listen to my elders."

PK rolled his eyes, handed Gally his drink, "So disrespectful."

"At least you didn't say 'no respect'." Gally said it the way Therrien did. PK made a face; didn't have anything to add-- or _should_  have anything to add, according to his agent. Gally picked up on that-- course he did, all of Canada did. And changed the subject, "What do you think about the Devils?"

PK clicked his tongue, sipped at his drink, "Not their season."

Gally nodded, almost chugged his drink. At least PK didn't use the good stuff tonight. PK allowed himself to kill his own drink, looking at Gally surreptitiously attempt to fish out the limes by tilting the glass back onto his face.

Christ, PK sometimes questioned his own sanity. "If you want the limes, you don't have to chuck the whole glass into your face."

Gally froze, tore his face from the glass, and set the glass down-- on a coaster. "What's with you and Pricey?"

PK shrugged, "Things change, you know how it is."

Gally gave him an expression that telegraphed _bullshit_. "So another thing not to talk about?"

PK made himself smile-- the one for TV-- and tilted his glass in Gally's direction, "Excellent!"

Gally squirmed on the couch cushions, leaned forward on his elbows, and waggled his eyebrows, "Does that mean we can do something?"

PK set down his drink, leaned closer to Gally, "If you're up to it."

Gally's eyes _fucking_  lit up. PK ran a hand through Gally's hair, seeing Gally's eyelids flutter, his tongue darting across his red lips.

"Are you, Gally?" PK asked, gripping Gally's hair a little tighter, seeing the pulse jump a little in Gally's throat.

Gally blinked, in a sex-daze, "Fuck, yes."

PK smiled, gave Gally a light kiss, and pushed him in the direction of the bedroom. PK shoved off his shoes, pulled off his socks, while he watched Gally go towards the bed. Once Gally was on it, he wasted no time taking off every single article of clothing he had, leaving PK the most dressed guy in the room with boxers.

Gally looked around at the room, then patted the bed, "Dark sheets? What's this?"

"It's called--" PK broke off; sex first, interior design later. He stripped off his boxers and plopped down next to Gally, who reached for him. PK slid a hand on Gally's thigh, and rocked against Gally. Gally laid a hand on the junction between PK's neck and shoulder, and paused, biting his own lip. PK tightened his grip on Gally's thigh, mouthed at Gally's lower lip, "What?"

Gally flushed crimson, slid his hands onto PK's ass and squeezed it. Looked into PK's eyes, a little smile playing on his face. "Am I still a five?"

PK slid his hand higher up, teasing at Gally's balls, "I think you're a bit higher."

Gally smirked, ground his dick against PK's hand. PK gripped Gally's dick, stroking it up and down, seeing Gally toss his head back in a silent groan. PK leaned in to bite Gally's neck, just high enough for him to bitch, and Gally wriggled under him--

"PK, you _fuck_ \--" Gally scrapped his short nails down PK's back--

PK leered, "That's the idea"--

PK rolled onto his back, sliding Gally's back over his front more or less easily, and put his hands on Gally's hips. Gally dropped his head back, making his neck meet PK's lips, and PK kissed the salty skin of Gally's neck as he held Gally against him--

Gally buckled, spreading his legs--

PK stroked Gally, just like he would've stroked himself, a bit of a tease; slow around the head but tight further down--

Gally pressed his feet against the mattress, letting PK rock in between his ass. PK sped up on Gally's dick, feeling Gally's thighs quiver and his breathing pick up, PK's other hand on Gally's throat--

Gally rocked back against PK--

"Look at you, Gally, all red, you *want* this," PK said, pressing Gally tighter against him, thrusting up between Gally's ass--

Gally gripped the bedsheets, forced out a "Fuck--"

PK slid his thumb across Gally's dick, twisted his grip one last time before Gally muttered, "PK," and came--

PK stroked Gally through it, saying whatever the hell came through his mind, relishing the twitch of Gally's hips against his hand.

Gally eventually forced PK's hand off his dick, and did his best imitation of a hot blanket against PK's front, complete with heavy breathing. Gally raised a hand towards PK's face, running a thumb across it before he rolled off PK--

PK folded his arms behind his head, shot Gally a cocky grin while he looked Gally up and down appreciatively. After sex was a good look on Gally. PK wriggled his hips, shot Gally a look, "Well?"

Gally smiled-- the sort of smile he did before he started shit-- and traced the skin around PK's dick. PK thumped his head against the pillow to Gally's cackle, but Gally shut up nicely with PK's dick in his mouth. PK laid a hand on Gally's head, closed his eyes against the slickness and the cleverness of Gally's tongue, feeling his toes curl--

Gally peered up at PK with those eyes--

PK thrust slowly into Gally's mouth, and Gally moaned around him, making PK want to take Gally, grind into him, feel his throat *work*--

Gally pulled back, licking the head of PK's dick, holding PK's balls firmly--

PK scrunched his eyes closed as he came, painting Gally's lower lip with white--

Gally leaned back, darted out his tongue across that lip--

"Fuck," PK said to the ceiling.

Gally tossed his head back, raised an eyebrow, "Not bad, eh?"

PK draped his arm across his face, thanking himself for having the foresight to shave off that *thing* on Gally's face. It would have ruined the scenery.

Gally flopped onto PK, barely avoiding bruising both guys' ribs, and wrapped himself around PK like a demented snuggie. PK settled back into the mattress, basking in Gally's heat.

December 1st had some good things going for it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ my tumblr!](http://hastybooks.tumblr.com)


End file.
